RWBY One-Shots
by T0PH4T
Summary: Exactly What It Says On The Tin. Tags reflect the title of latest story, which is: Ice, Light, and Flowers.
1. Heat and Steel

There were times that caused Cinder to question her life choices.

The first incident that sparked such a crisis of identity was when another student had tried to hit on her in Beacon. She let him down easy, but when you see a teenager in a mohawk stammer out an extraordinarily poor "love haiku," one couldn't help but feel that somewhere, somehow, something had gone wrong.

Another incident was when a certain silver-eyed Huntress had torn out her eye. Months of rehabilitation, fighting step by agonizing step for even the smallest sound. Keeping in her newfound screams as her new arm bound to her, as more and more of her body _belonged_ to Salem. She could distinctly recall curling up on her bed, wondering if it wouldn't just be easier to walk out into the badlands and wait to be eaten.

Then there was Valentine's day in the Arc household. Valentine's night, rather.

"Oh _Nicky_." The words were pleasantly feminine, too delicate for the steady thumping of wood against plaster that rang throughout the house. Cinder grit her teeth and levered herself up into a sitting position on the edge of the bed, then took a moment to adjust her camisole and panties. Once she felt that her clothing was secure, she stood up, walked over to the source of the noise, took a deep breath and slammed her remaining arm against the wall three times.

"Shut. The fuck. Up!" she shouted, a faint rasp in her voice. "Don't you two have enough kids already?" For a brief moment the noise stopped and a little spark of hope flared in her heart. Then the noise started up again, this time with more creaking of springs and wet slaps of flesh on flesh.

"Don't bother," a new voice cut in, causing Cinder to turn around. "Once they get going it's not over until they both get off." Jaune spread the sheets wide, revealing his shorts-clad form. "Come back to bed. They'll wear out eventually."

"We are never coming back here. Ever," she said, striding back across the room and laying back down on the bed. When Jaune leaned closer for a kiss, she turned onto her side, staring studiously at the wall. Undeterred, a hand wrapped around her stomach and squeezed her close.

"You're not comfortable like that, are you?" She refused to answer. He sighed. "Okay. So we're not going to my parents' anymore." A moan reverberated through the house. "Aaand maybe the noise is a little worse than I thought it was going to be. I swear I forgot it was Valentine's day."

This provoked a response.

"And you forgot it was Valentine's day!" Cinder hissed, twisting in his arms to glare up with a single amber eye. "You spent the entire day taking care of your stupid sisters, introducing them to Pyrrha and trying to explain to them why she was short a few body parts! 'Oh, she's just been through a rough spot, why don't-'"

The rest was cut off with a kiss. Soft, sweet, and deliciously Arc. Cinder's eye closed as she leaned into it, intact arm working its way out from beneath them to reach behind and pull into him. After a moment, he broke it off. They stared at each other for a moment.

"It's because Pyrrha was in control for a full day, isn't it?"

Cinder hugged harder, burying her face into his neck. Jaune embraced her silently, ignoring the clawing hand and searing heat radiating off of his bedmate. After a few minutes, he tried talking again.

"You know, she wants to communicate to you." When Cinder didn't speak, he took it as a signal to keep going. "I mean, you guys aren't going to get away from one another. She doesn't want to fight another war."

"Then maybe she shouldn't take an entire day away from me," Cinder murmured, voice hot and full of anger. Jaune tilted his head down to nuzzle her crown.

"Did you want to shepherd my sisters around for an entire day?" he asked. She shook her head. "Did you want to spend the day with me?" She didn't respond. He sighed again.

"Cinder. You can ask for things." She pulled back and looked him in the eye.

" _No_. I _can't_. When I'm not in the body? When I'm not in control? _I'm nothing_. Do you know what _nothingness_ is Jaune? _Actual_ nothingness? It's hell. You're not floating, you're not breathing, you can't even hear your own _nervous system_ buzzing in the background _it's that quiet_. And you don't know if you're ever going to come back out because maybe, just maybe, the other girl decided that 'today is the day I cut the other bitch out of my life-'"

Again, a kiss. This time deeper, with moans exchanged as two hands went lower and another climbed up, palming the side of his neck.

When they parted, it was to panting and rushing blood, ready to move.

Instead, Jaune pressed his forehead against hers and caressed her cheek, just below the scars.

"So a full day without the body is too much. Okay. We won't do that anymore. Is that okay with you?" She nodded once and he kissed her forehead. "Gotcha. Is there anything else you want to talk about?"

Cinder opened her mouth to reply.

" _NICKYYY!_ " The scream pierced through the walls, high and breathy and decidedly _too loud_. Jaune and Cinder grimaced in unison.

"Your parents are still the worst," she whispered, even as the creaking slowed down and the house grew silent once more.

"You're not wrong," Jaune replied, a note of anger in his voice. Cinder's eye gleamed and she rolled them both over, putting Jaune on his back and her on top, drawing out a short grunt of confusion.

"Um, Cinder, what-" the rest cut off as she took the hem of her camisole and pulled it up and off, baring her chest to the moonlight. She looked down at Jaune and smiled.

"What say we give _them_ something to complain about for a change?"


	2. Shadows on Ice and Sunlight

"One White Russian one, one black Russian, and two shots of warmed whiskey. Fireball Whisky, if you have it." Weiss shook her head as she muttered the last words, offset ponytail swaying back and forth, and Jaune winced in sympathy. While ordering an actual whiskey was a respectable (if dull) decision, asking for that particular candy-drink outside of a frat house was...

Not _technically_ a crime.

"Which table?" he asked. Weiss pointed to a booth in the back and Jaune craned his neck to follow her finger. Two golden eyes met his temporarily, standing out against a purple dress topped by a little, black bow. She was a regular customer, but not one he'd spoken to. Jaune smiled and sent her a small wave. In response she rolled her eyes and turned back to her companion, who was concealed by shadows and a poor angle. Jaune shrugged. He couldn't win them all.

"I'll bring the drinks out to you," he said, turning away from Weiss and pulling out a pair of shot glasses and old fashioned tumblers. His was not to question why, and at the end of the day money was money. Stupid kids came by all the time to drink on Mommy or Daddy's dime, and the bar was stocked with cheap booze and worse beer for when they decided that proper alcohol was too sour and inevitably asked for something more familiar.

And as it happened, he _did_ have a bottle of Fireball.

After balancing the drink on a small tray and printing off the receipt, Jaune walked out, weaving between empty tables to reach the booth.

"Drinks," he said. "A White Russian for you," — he placed the drink in front of Weiss — "the Black Russian for you," — he placed the drink in front of the girl with the bow, who nodded once politely, "— and that means the shots are for..." he trailed off, turning to the third woman, who was dressed in shades of red. Black hair came down to cover up one eye, the remaining orb a lighter shade of gold. She smiled and leaned forward, plucking the two shot glasses from the tray with one hand before he could place them down.

"Cinder Fall, and thank you kindly." She paused for a moment, leaving one shot in front of her and holding the other, tilting her head as if to examine him more closely. "Say, what is your name?"

"Jaune. Jaune Arc," he added, suppressing the urge to flirt. He'd learned that lesson after just _one_ drink to the face, thank you very much. After a moment, he dropped the receipt on the table and tucked the tray under his arm. "Well, I hope you ladies have a nice night."

"Come. Stay for a while," the raven-haired woman said, drawing a scoff from Weiss and a scowl from the girl in purple. "Isn't talking to thirsty clients part of a bartender's job?" Jaune swallowed and shuffled his feet, looking between the three girls.

"Cinder no," Weiss said, fixing her eyes on the woman in question, who seemed entirely unaffected by her companion's gaze.

"Cinder yes, and I'm certain his clients can afford to wait a while," Cinder replied, gesturing to the empty room with her shot and tossing it back in one smooth motion. "That, and I want to know what Blake sees in you."

"Shut up!" the girl in purple hissed, blushing in tandem with Jaune, who suddenly became fascinated with a light fixture. "See, this is why we don't take you to nice places!"

"Nonsense, you don't take me to nice places because I disturb the other patrons," Cinder denied, downing her second shot and turning the glass over onto a napkin. "Now, I insist you join us. But bring the bottle with you," she added, lone eye sparkling.

Unwilling to press the point, Jaune did as he was bid. Once he was settled, Cinder propped her head up on her arm and smiled at Jaune.

"So, Mr. Arc, what do you think when you look at me?"

Jaune shook his head and popped the top off a beer using the side of a table. " _There's_ a loaded question." Cinder laughed again, even as Blake stared intently between the two.

"A clever boy, but be honest," she said. Jaune took a long pull of his bitter and thought carefully before answering.

"You're a pretty girl," he said. "Beautiful, really. Like Winged Victory." Cinder hummed in appreciation and pushed the napkin with the shot glasses over.

"Most girls would prefer to be compared to the Mona Lisa or the Birth of Venus," she teased. Jaune took a breath, then let it out.

"You said to be honest," he said as he turned the shot glasses over and poured a measure of "whisky" into them, eyes flicking to her folded sleeve and the melted flesh under bangs. "I..." he swallows, "I didn't want to lie." Fortunately, this appeared to be the desired response, to which Weiss responded with a short nod.

Cinder shrugged. "I asked for it. Anyway, you seem pleasant enough. He has my approval, Blake." The girl in question bared her teeth, drawing a smirk from Cinder.

"Fuck off," Blake said, ignoring the blush in her face and swallowing down more alcohol. "I don't need you to screen my dates."

"But you appreciate it when we do," Weiss interjected, turning to face Jaune. "Did you know that she once 'accidentally' snuck into a Broadway play with her boyfriend to get my opinion? The start was delayed for an hour-"

"Shut up shut up shut up!" Blake said, eyes darting between her friends and the bartender, whose expression had changed from politely interested to a complicated mixture of impressed and worried. "That was a long time ago," she said, crossing her arms in front of herself and shaking her head. "I don't do things like that anymore."

"Instead she demands that her friends take her to the company bar to talk about 'business' three times a week, after which she'll spend half the 'meeting' eyeing up the boy mixing drinks," Cinder said innocently, taking another shot as Blake turned to glare daggers at her. Weiss fumbled at her pocket, pulled out her phone, and groaned.

"Apparently nobody actually agreed to go to Japan last week. That means _someone_ has to cover." Weiss sighed and stood up and out of the booth, shrugging on her coat. "Well, time to catch three flights to hello politely and wander around Tokyo for a few days."

Cinder shook her head. "I wonder how much longer you'll put up with their impositions."

"I'm putting up with this one," Weiss answered, walking away and waving over her shoulder. "Goodbye, plebeians."

"Don't get overthrown by the proletariat," Blake said, raising her voice and receiving a single rude gesture in return. Cinder twisted her wrist and examined her watch, eye narrowing for a moment before she too stood up.

"I also appear to have an appointment," Cinder said, drawing a red shawl close around her. Once it was closed, she turned to the remaining individuals at the table and smiled. "Plan yourselves an evening, wouldn't you? I would hate for this night to have gone to waste."

As she walked off, Blake and Jaune became aware of the awkward silence.

"You don't have to-" Blake started.

"What time do you-" Jaune asked.

They paused, looking at one another. Jaune motioned to her.

"Ladies first." Blake rolled her eyes and sighed.

"Cinder can be... a lot at times. If you don't want to, she'll understand. Don't feel pressured into anything." She finished off her drink and pulled up her own coat, letting out a breath, then continuing. "If you don't want to go out, I'll completely-"

"I was going to ask what times you were free," Jaune interrupted, scratching the back of his head sheepishly. "But if you're not interested-"

"No!" Blake said, eyes wide and snatching at the uplifted arm. When she realized that she had pulled herself into his personal space she let go and leaned back, stammering. "I-I mean, I'm free after four on weekdays and before six on weekends."

"G-great," Jaune said. "Uh, I can make Thursday at five?"

"Sounds good to me," she replied,

"Good."

Another silence stretched out.

"We're really bad at this?" Jaune tried, spreading his arms in a helpless gesture.

Blake laughed, shaking her head.

"This isn't the worst proposition I've handled." Jaune finished off his beer and left it on the table, turning to face her.

"Okay, there's a story there. What happened?" Blake blushed and shook her head ruefully.

"So I have an apartment by a fire escape I share with Weiss and a few other girls, and one day this blonde guy I know from work climbs it..."


	3. Friend of Mine

Rest in Piece Avicii. You will be missed.

* * *

There were some days Weiss hated LA.

It was too hot. No one wanted to do business after four. The acts didn't stop when the cameras stopped rolling. Skeletons fell out of every closet. Smiles cost nothing and were worth less. Love and other four letter words were thrown around, picked apart, squeezed for every last drop of genuine feeling, then discarded, a shadow of what they once were.

More than any that, Weiss was sick of the suck-ups.

There was a knock at the door.

"It's unlocked," she called, leaving the wine glass and wine bottle half empty on the balcony as she walked back into her apartment, a skyline she'd seen too many times to think of as pretty behind her.

The knob rattled for a moment, then twisted and pushed in, a girl in crimson biker shorts, a helmet the color of dried blood, and a black tank top with roses picked out in red thread. She looked around the room, face moving from surprise to curiosity as she took in the clothes scattered around the apartment, white on white on white with blue furniture breaking up the near snowfield, then from curiosity to embarrassment as she saw Weiss, striding towards her skyclad. The courier covered her eyes and turned away, flushing red.

"I'm so sorry I didn't know you were in the middle of something and I'll leave and come back later when-"

"Stop. Talking," Weiss said, interrupting Ruby's stammer as she leaned down and plucked a robe off of the ground, shrugging into the silk and tying it shut before clapping once. "Now that your delicate little eyes are safe, would be so kind as to tell me where my delivery has been?" she said, sarcasm practically dripping off the words. One of Ruby's hands dropped to her side, while the other went to the back of her neck as she looked away sheepishly from the singer.

"Well the traffic was really bad and there was an accident so I stopped to call the police but I had to move before they asked me about stuff so that took a while and I saw this cat stuck in a tree and I knew I need to help and I thought it was only going to take a minute to find the owner but it turned out it was a stray so I went to one of my friends and asked her if she wanted to take care of it and she said yes so we spent some time getting the kitty acquainted with his housemates and we talked for a while but that turned into like half an hour and I started moving as fast I could but there was another rush-order that Cinder told me to pick up and I had to take a detour to-"

"Stop. Talking!" Weiss said, slashing her hand in front of her. Ruby fell quiet, mouth _clicking_ shut as Weiss moved to look her in the eye.

"I asked for the product to be delivered at four. It's six fifty three. You left me waiting for three. Hours." Ruby shuffled nervously, fixed in place by Weiss's contemplative gaze. After a moment, the singer came to a decision.

"You're staying here. You waste my time, I'll waste yours." Ruby tilted her head and gave Weiss a quizzical look.

"Umm, no? I kind of had plans..." she said, looking towards the door. Weiss snorted.

"And I didn't? Leave and I formally complain to your boss." Ruby's face twisted into panic as Weiss moved past her and shut the door and turning the lock. "Two hours and fifty three minutes. Tit for tat." Then she twisted to face the courier. "Unless you think you're more valuable than me?"

Ruby stood silently for a moment before slipping off her backpack and sitting down on a couch, a mixture of betrayal and nervousness on her face. Weiss rolled her eyes and walked over to her, falling gracefully beside her and crossing her legs. Her robe slid up, exposing more leg. The courier turned away, gaze pointedly focused on the singer's, who looked expectantly at her in return.

"Well?"

After a moment of confusion, realization dawned across Ruby's face. "Right. The stuff. Yeah." Ruby lifted her backpack onto her lap and rifled through it for a moment before pulling out a small bag. "Here's your...?" she trailed off.

"Oxycontin," Weiss said, taking the bag from her. Ruby's eyes went wide.

"Oookay," Ruby said, looking at the heiress as she pulled out a half-full bottle of pills and popped off the top. "Umm, are you going to..."

"Yes," she said simply, locking eyes with the courier. "Do you have a problem with that?"

"No, you do you," Ruby said hurriedly, still staring at the pills. After a moment, she shifted her stare back to the singer. "But, uh, how 'there' are you going to be?" The singer's scowled.

"I don't need a minder!" she snapped, leaning in and over the courier.

Ruby shrunk back, away from the girl in white, eyes wide. Weiss blinked, surprise blooming across her features. She blinked again, then looked away, pulling her legs up on the couch and squeezing them against her chest, head on her knees. Ruby stared, then slowly sat back up.

After a moment, Weiss broke the silence.

"I wasn't trying to pressure you," she mumbled. "You can go. Do what you want."

Ruby looked towards the door, then towards the girl, long hair shading her face. She stood up, walked over, and twisted the deadbolt open.

Then she turned around and sat back down on the couch. She fumbled around in her backpack again, this time reaching into a different pocket. She pulled out a plastic bag with a few small slips of paper on them, then leaned back against the couch, eyes towards the roof and far away.

"I don't do the really hard drugs," Ruby said, turning the bag over in her hands. "I like biking too much to wreck my lungs and I don't want to mess with my brain. Kinda need it to navigate traffic sometimes, right?" Weiss didn't respond. "I mean, even the legal stuff can be scary. Uncle Qrow kinda gave me and my sister a lesson about what booze can do if you're not careful. He don't have a lady friend, his job kinda sucks, and he, uh," Ruby swallowed, "He kinds had to go to the hospital a few times." Weiss didn't move as Ruby wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her close.

"On the other hand, he's a good guy. Weird, but good. He taught me and Yang how to drive, how to throw a punch, and he kept an eye on us when Dad wasn't doing so hot. Sober, too. He always says he can quit anytime. He just needs a good enough reason." Weiss's head fell against her shoulder and Ruby pretended not to notice. "He also helped us learn how to get stuff if we wanted. Yang dared me to try out shrooms when we learned. Bet a lot on it. I won, by the way," Ruby said, chuckling. "After that was Ruby's looong, wild descent into the wonderful world of psychedelics." Ruby squeezed Weiss's shoulder and tilted her head to rest on Weiss's. "I've got a few light doses on me if you want to try something a little less crazy. Does that sound cool?"

"Why are you doing this?" Weiss whispered, voice flat and emotionless. She lifted her head, disturbing Ruby's, staring at the wall. "Why aren't you gone?"

Ruby shrugged, careful to keep her arm around Weiss. "You looked like you needed help."

Weiss sniffled. Once. Then she pointed to the bag in Ruby's hand. Ruby nodded.

"Okay, I'm going to assume you haven't had LSD before." Weiss shook her head and Ruby nodded. "Yeah, figured as much. So, the first thing we're going to have to do is clean this place up." When Weiss looked at her incredulously, Ruby laughed. "Yeah, that was my reaction to. But you don't want to room to be angry at you on your first trip. Come on, let's get to work." With that Ruby stood and started picking up clothes, humming quietly to herself. Weiss watched her for a moment, eyes focused in wonder.

The she kicked her legs out, got to her feet, and grabbed a pair of shoes.

"The laundry hamper is in my room. This way."


	4. Rum and Coke and Other Wonderful Poisons

"Do you want to do something tonight?" Yang asked, arm dangling off the side of her bed.

Blake turned a page, contemplating Mina and Lucy as she reclined against a pair of pillows. "Why do you ask?"

"'Cause you never go out after eight and I kinda want to get you tipsy." When Blake switched her gaze to Yang and narrowed her eyes dangerously, Yang continued on, unimpressed. "I call it like I see it. Like, I get that you don't like people," — Blake snorted disdainfully — "but you've passed on a get-together with a group of _three_. Including _you_. That's barely enough people to get in trouble with."

"Some would say that trouble is to be avoided," Blake said, eyes turning back to her book, indicating an end to the conversation. Yang pressed on.

"Yeah, trouble trouble is real bad. But trouble? Messing around a little in a place you probably shouldn't be? That's part of growing up."

"So you're suggesting I get shitfaced in the last month of school because it will help me grow up?" Blake asked, flicking to the next page. Yang sat up and shook her head, mane waving languidly.

"Not bad drunk. A little drunk. Loosen up, talk to someone, maybe smile a little. Books are cool and all, but do you really want to leave college knowing maybe three people total?"

"I can make friends when I find a place to settle down and work," Blake said, sketching a note into the margin of her book. "I have you, I have your sister, and I have Weiss."

"While your friendship with the Ice Queen is, in fact, a miracle, that means your social group consists of a high schooler who thinks motorcycles are cooler than boys, a girl that alphabetizes her notes religiously, and me. That's not healthy." Yang sighed, then leaned forward and spoke earnestly. "I'm not asking you to take a complete one-eighty and suddenly head out with me every night. I'm asking if you want to meet up with a few of my friends, Ruby, and have a few drinks. Talk for a little bit, and if you hate it after half an hour you can leave. What do you say?"

Blake slipped a bookmark into place and looked at Yang. The silence hung in the air, an empty void.

"You're really worried about me." Blake stated it like a fact. Yang lifted a hand and wiggled it up and down, a so-so sign.

"I think it'd be good if you could talk politics with someone besides a chem major." Blake winced.

"Is it really that bad?" Yang grinned.

"You have no idea."

* * *

"Hiya Yang!" Ruby said, charging at her sister. Yang leaned down and hugged her, spinning around to bleed off momentum. Once she was set back down, Ruby looked past her sister at the new arrival. "Blake! I haven't seen you in forever! How're you doing?"

"You haven't seen me in four days and I'm good, thank you for asking," Blake replied dryly, a small smile flitting across her face. "So, I was told there would be alcohol?" she asked, looking around the empty hallway. Ruby nodded.

"Yeah, we're in the lounge actually," Ruby said, pointing down the hall and walking towards the double doors. The two other girls followed her and Ruby rambled on. "I just wanted to meet Yang because she said she had a surprise. Also, gimme!" Ruby looked to her sister and held her hands out expectantly, a cheerful grin on her face. Yang smiled bacl and ruffled her hair.

"You've already seen it," Yang said, jerking a thumb over her shoulder. "I finally got Blakey to come out of her shell." The girl in question scowled.

"I don't have a shell," she said. When both Ruby and Yang turned to give her a look, she amended her statement. "A shell implies a resistance to social interaction. I just don't put myself in a situation to interact." Ruby looked back to Yang, then to Blake, then back to Yang.

"Okay yeah that's surprising but you got something for me too, right?" Yang laughed as Blake squaked indignantly.

"Is that all I am to you? A present dispenser?" Yang asked, mock hurt in her voice as she slung her backpack down onto one arm and started digging through it.

"Nah. You're a superduper sister that also happens to give me cool stuff when I ask nicely," Ruby said, totally shameless. Yang shrugged with one shoulder and pulled out a small cardboard box.

"Fair enough. Anyway, I got those engraving bits you wanted. I talked to Port to get the order rushed and-" the rest is cut off as her sister swipes the package out of her hand and spins, clutching the package to hr chest.

"Thankyouthankyouthankyou!" Ruby gushed, giving her sister another one-armed hug. "I'll make something really cool to thank you later!" Then she ran down the hall, bursting through the double doors. Blake took a few more steps forward and shook her head.

"Sometimes I forget just how fast she is," Blake murmured. Yang nodded, smile still in place, even if her eyes were a little rueful.

"I know, right? Anyway, ready for your debut?" Blake rolled her eyes and walked down the hall, pushing through the doors and taking in the room.

Ruby was already sat down at a table, bits and cords scattered across its surface as she jabbered at another redhead and a slim man with a single strip of pink in his otherwise black hair. At the next table two students are mixing drinks. Blake recognizes the scarlet hair. Pyrrha Nikos. The college's resident Olympic hopeful and merit scholar. Blake blinked.

"Yeah, I know some pretty cool people," Yang said, clapping Blake on the shoulder and startling her. When Blake sent a sideways glance at her roommate, Yang just smiled. "Real story is the guy next to her."

Blake huffed and turned her attention to the other blonde. Tall, yes. Reasonably muscular, yes. And when he turned around...

"Uh, hello. Who're you?" Blake blinked again, taking in the rest of his face. A gentle smile, deep blue eyes, and far closer than she remembered him being.

"Blake Belladonna," she answered, defaulting and trying to buy time. When did he cross the room. "You are?"

"Jaune Arc," he said, extending one of his arms. She looked down. A glass tumbler, with a few ice cubes, part of a lemon peel, and clear liquid. When she looked back up he clarified. "A gin and tonic. Yang just said she was going to show up with someone new, so I figured I should make something people can agree on."

Blake accepted the drink, sniffed it once, then took an experimental sip. And another. And a third.

"This is good," she said, nodding appreciatively, looking up at Jaune with new eyes. "So, did Yang tell you anything else about me?" She asked, ready to gauge his reaction.

Jaune shrugged. "Said you liked talking about social activism. What's your cause?" Blake motioned to a nearby table, beyond the drinks and the chatter, which Yang had joined as well.

"You... might want to sit down for this." Jaune pulled out a pair of chairs and collapsed into one of them, taking a sip of his own drink, something yellow that smelled slightly of lemons.

"Well, I've got all night," he joked, both hands playing with the glass. "So, what're you interested in."

After a moment, Blake sat down next to Jaune staring into her drink. She took a breath, then let it out, organizing her thoughts.

Then she began.

"Killing an endangered animal carries a fine of fifty thousand dollars. Ignoring an OSHA code costs a little more than twelve. These numbers indicate that our government values the life of a pretty bird more than four times as much as one of its citizens _lives_ , despite the fact that _everyone_ in charge agrees that people are more important that nature." She looked at Jaune, golden eyes blazing. "I want to try and make the laws reflect the will of the people."

Jaune nodded. "So where would you start?"


	5. Rainbows off Snow and Ice

" _Weiss Schnee, will you go out with meee?"_

The last notes of the guitar faded away as the blonde smiled expectantly. The heir looked up at his courter for a single, long moment.

"No, I will not," Weiss said simply. Jeanne's expression fell. Then Weiss slammed the door in her face and turned back to his team, arms crossed indignantly. When he was met by three pairs of shocked eyes, he lifted an eyebrow. "What?"

"Weiss, that was pretty frosty, even for you" Yang said. Weiss huffed.

"If a tart pursues me well beyond when I ask them to stop, I feel as if I'm entitled to be a little rude," he said defensively, turning to Blake. "Am I not correct, Ms. Belladonna?"

"I think that you could've handled it better," Blake said carefully, not meeting Weiss's gaze as she focused intently on her book. Weiss rolled his eyes.

"Of course the girl who's primary source of romantic understanding comes from pornography novels would say that." Two golden orbs flicked back up in anger for a moment, but Weiss had already turned to the last occupant of the room. "Ruby, partner dearest, please tell me what you think of this latest assault upon my person."

Ruby squirmed under the combined gaze of her three other teammates. "Um... I choose option C?"

Weiss's expression fell. "Ruby, are you saying that I did not conduct myself with all the grace and respectability that the situation deserved? That I have not given Jeanne more than the benefit of the doubt, and more to the point, have only escalated when it became clear that previous methods of discouragement were not working?"

"No, I think she's saying that you were mean," Yang said flatly.

"That's what I meant!" Weiss responded, throwing his hands up in the air and turning back to Yang.

As the argument raged on, Blake turned back to her book, Weiss and Yang started moving around as they bickered, and Ruby quietly left the room.

* * *

"It didn't work?" Nora asked, clutching a pillow to her chest as she watched the gangly blond walk in.

"Does this look like the face of someone who got a date with Weiss Schnee?" she asked, pulling up her guitar case and replacing the instrument, clasps clicking into place one at a time. "On the other hand, he didn't insult my parents this time, so I think I'm making progress."

A pillow smacked into her face, drawing a squawk from the blonde.

"Boo! Find a new boy to lust after!" Nora heckled. "Except for Ren. That'd be weird. No lusting after Ren."

"Saving him all for yourself?" Jeanne teased, tossing the pillow back underhand. Nora caught it and tucked it into her chest.

"Nah, we're not together-together," Nora said, laughing nervously. Jeanne nodded, letting the moment passed. "Actually though," Nora said, tilting her head to the side, "Why do you keep pining after him? He's kinda a jerk a lot of the time." Jeanne sighed and leaned back, pulling one of her legs up to her chest.

"Yeah. All that class and he's more than a little rough around the edges. Too proud for his own good, constantly striving to be better, to meet his own high standards. He doesn't lower them for other people, either. He wants everyone on his team to get on his level, even if it's hard." Jeanne's grin took a bitter turn. "Meanwhile I'm working myself to the bone just to keep up with you guys."

"You know we don't care, right Jeanne?" Nora asked, face uncharacteristically serious. Jeanne waved a hand at her, eyes unfocused.

"Yeah yeah, you guys have been great. It's just..." she fumbled her arm in front of her before giving up and using it to pull her leg closer. "He's earnest, he's honest, and when you can actually get a smile out of him he's beautiful." Jeanne shook her head. "He's the sort of guy that would go to the wall for you if he commited. Who _wouldn't_ fall for him?" She turned to her red-headed partner, expression blue. "It's like I'm chasing after a horse through a snowstorm. I keep moving, keep running, keep trying, but every time I think I've made progress it's just a joke. A trick of the light. What do I do, Nora?"

"Tell him the truth." Both of the girls' gaze snapped to the door, where Pyrrha stood quietly. "No gimmicks. No songs. One last attempt and if he says no, stop. Mean it."

Jeanne looked up at the other girl. "Do you think that would actually work?" she asked, eyes halfway between awestruck and sorrowful.

"No." As Jeanne's expression fell, Pyrrha continued speaking, walking through the room, towards Jeanne. "I don't think it would work. I do think it's what a person who's actually in love would say." Pyrrha sat down next to Jeanne on her bed and looped an arm around her shoulders. "Love isn't about asking someone to share their life with you, or about chasing some ideal. It's about offering your life to them, a gift, not an exchange." She leaned in and stared and Jeanne, meeting eye to eye. "If you love him, let him decide if he wants to try it out with you. See if there is hope, any at all, that he will return your feelings. Give him your happiness, but don't do it expecting to come out ahead."

Jeanne twisted to the side and pulled Pyrrha into a full hug, knocking them both prone on the bed. Pyrrha let loose a small _meep_ as Jeanne laughed, and once the blonde had propped herself up on her elbows she looked Pyrrha in the eyes, a soft smile on her face.

"You're the best partner I ever could've asked for, you know?" Jeanne whispered, hair falling down like a curtain to cut them off from the rest of the world. "I don't know what I'd do without you."

"J-just fine, more than likely," Pyrrha said, maintaining eye contact even as she pushed down her blush. After a moment Jeanne pushed herself back up to sitting and was back to smiling brightly.

"Welp, time to go talk to Weiss." Nora threw the pillow at her head and knocked her back onto the bed.

"Silly J, if you go now Weiss will still be mad about the serenade," Nora said cheerfully. Jeanne stood back up, shaking her head and walking towards the exit.

"I mean, you're right, but I'm just preparing a little bit. Some chocolates, a shower, little things. It doesn't count as a gimmick," she said flippantly, passing through the threshold of the room before turning back and smiling. "Also Pyr, your the best. Just wanted you to know that." With a toss of yellow hair, she disappeared.

Pyrrha sighed and propped herself up on her elbows, looking forlornly at the empty doorway. Nora looked back to her teammate and let loose a small sigh of her own.

"Have you ever considered taking your own advice?" Pyrrha shook her head.

"It'd be more than a little awkward," Pyrrha said, turning on the bed to face away from Nora, breathing in. The sheets smelled a little like Jeanne, a combination of sunflowers and bread.

"Because she's interested in King Cold or because you're both girls?" Nora asked quietly. Pyrrha sighed.

"Both, I'm afraid. If Jeanne does... _like_ Weiss," — Nora saw a small shudder pass through Pyrrha's form — "Then I want her to be happy."

"And if she isn't, you're there to pick up the rebound?" Nora asked dubiously. Pyrrha flipped around, green eyes blazing.

"No! Of course not!" After a moment, the fire subsided, and she pulled the cloth of the bed tighter. "I just want her to make the decision."

Nora looked at the amazon for a moment, quietly contemplating the depressed acceptance on her face. Then she stood up and moved to kneeled by her teammate.

"You should tell her. Not everything. Just that," — Nora shrugged — "You like girls. She won't care. I mean, maybe she'll give you a stink eye in the shower from time to time when she thinks you're checking her out," — Pyrrha blushed furiously — "but besides that I think she'll give you a hug and offer whatever help you need."

"Except for a date to the dance," Pyrrha said quietly. Nora shrugged and smiled.

"Maybe she'll surprise you."


	6. Responsibility

Winter checked many things before going home.

First she checked with her superiors. Ironwood generally gave her a fair amount of leeway when it came to leave, but the Atlas military couldn't have Specialists disappearing left and right. So she dutifully filed the appropriate forms and ensured that there would not be a question as to where she was over the course of her break. The tracking chafed, but it was part and parcel with rank, so she put up with it.

Then she checked her travel preparations. Luggage, transportation tickets, the status of any and all stops along the way, a review of her itinerary. It was the small things that delayed travelers the most, and Winter Schnee did not care for preventable errors, let alone ones that occurred because some celebrity was passing through and managed to block traffic for an hour.

The last thing she checked was her weapons. The Dust, the blades and the splitting mechanisms, all cleaned. The permits that allowed her to bring lethal tools into civilian populations, the belt upon which it hung, and her backup knives, all arranged appropriately for ease of access. While she rarely had to use them, she found that being prepared for any eventuality cost little and prevented much.

That, and there was comfort in knowing you could kill a man at any time.

"We're here, Miss Schnee."

"Specialist Schnee," she corrected automatically. The driver nodded, expression unchanged.

"Specialist Schnee." One of Father's games. A little prod here and there, one that cost him little and could be turned into a foothold for future manipulation if it did somehow land. The driver didn't know why it happened. He just drove cars and said what the boss wanted him to say.

Winter didn't blame him. Instead she treated him with the same disdain that she did for any of Father's lickspittles that weren't competent enough to have a little freedom in their daily lives.

She strode out of the car, leaving her bags to be carried in by the help. The first time she had tried to do it herself, the maids had nearly cried. After that she learned to let it go, to let Father indulge himself in trying to break down her discipline. That, and to take nothing of value with her that she could not keep on her person at all times, unless she wanted Father to learn about it.

The manor was as empty as it always was. Hundreds of rooms, miles of corridors, and it had more employees than residents, dramatically so. A man more money-minded may have rented out some of less critical areas and further magnified the wealth of the Schnee clan. A more security conscious one would use it to house a private army, ensuring their safety. A humanitarian would offer lodging as a part of the employment benefits as a way to both build loyalty and respect.

Jacques Schnee left it empty. A sign, he said, of enough power to do whatever he wished, even if that that something was nothing.

Winter thought it highlighted how alone he was. How, for all his capacity, he was a useless power, his hoard unspent, guns unfired, art unshown.

"Your father is waiting for you in the library," the maid said. A small blonde girl, one who had yet to perfect her poker face. Winter nodded at her.

"You are dismissed." After a moment's hesitation the girl left. Winter watched her leave, watched until she disappeared, then turned down the hallway and began the long walk to the East Wing. Along the way, she ran through her mental list of Rules for dealing with Father.

First: do not agree to anything. Words are not promises, but he has a special way of making them feel like it. Give him an inch and he will take a mile.

Second: do not initiate. Father was skilled at the game of smiles and lies in a way that she simply wasn't. The only way to win was not to play. Let him have his fun, then leave with grace.

Third: if he tries to touch upon Willow, Weiss, or another subject of importance, break something. Preferably an expensive work of art, but in a pinch furniture or non-load bearing walls will work.

Soon, too soon, she came to the tall blue double doors that hide the Schnee Library. Home to hundreds of thousands of volumes, ranging from the latest scientific texts to the journals of Nicholas Schnee to the best selling novels of the past fifty years. Perhaps a percent of them had been read, less than that within the past few years.

Winter stared at the door. She hated this. How, after years of freedom, of choosing on her own, of being able to decide which rules to listen to and which to break, she still felt like a little girl caught doing something naughty when she was called to Father's presence.

As always, she considered leaving. Instead, she considered why she came back, month after month, year after year.

The Schnee name carried weight. If she didn't have these little tea-time chats with Father, he would hit back. Nothing as overt as sabotaging the military, no, Jacques Schnee was a patriot, why would he do such a thing? Instead he'd pay for things. Special funding for special projects. Projects that needed a certain kind of touch, which just happened to Winter's touch, located deep in the frozen wastes of Mantle. A choice that wasn't a choice, a spread of options that weren't. Politick at its finest, a savage blow disguised as a helping hand.

Ironwood didn't have the clout to refuse a grant from the SDC. Yet. Father's money spoke, and spoke loudly enough to end careers. So once a month, Winter packed her bags and went home. Back to the servants under her Father's thumb, back to the empty halls, back to the rules, back to these library doors.

Which were still shut.

For one brief moment, Winter let her feelings show. Teeth bared, eyes hard, jaw clenched, and fists closed. It was the face of a woman ready and willing to do harm to another, ready to fight.

Then she schooled her expressions flat and pushed through the doors.

Jacques Schnee, CEO of the Schnee Dust Company and quite possibly one of the top ten most powerful men in the world, sat at a wire-work table, two carafes and two cups before him. He turned towards the open door, blue eyes meeting blue.

"Hello Winter."


	7. Chivalrous Cuckoo

Raven had always made fun of him for being a romantic. For looking for Mrs. Right in all the wrong places, for waiting for his latest partner to wake up so he could take them out to breakfast and try to see what sort of person he'd just slept with. She thought it was stupid, like playing with your food. Once the sex was over, what was there left to talk about? She thought it was a fight, a matter of taking what you wanted and moving on before they got their hooks too deep into you.

Him? For him it was those mornings in the diner that mattered. First there were the stories, little stories, about how they were like as kids. There were stories about their jobs, about their hobbies, about anything at all, a glimpse into their world. Then there was how they acted once the dead was done, when the only people watching were other tired souls in search of sustenance or the near-sleepless beings that served them. Some of his partners blushed as the waiters eyed them knowingly. To reassure them, he'd smile and tell them not to give a damn. That they were jealous that he'd been lucky enough to be able to buy her a meal. Sometimes they teased him, batting eyes free of makeup and asking if this dusty old crow was ready for round two. Those mornings went on a little longer, and no matter how long they were he always managed to get more done in the afternoons.

He'd stick around for a few days to see if the wanderlust had finally left him. Hoping. Praying. If (when) it didn't, he picked up another job and left on good terms. The reverse of a regular relationship, where it started with sex and ended with a smile. He'd gained more than a few friends that way. No one he'd wanted to let make him an honest man, but more than a few people he didn't mind bumping uglies with as he passed through the smaller cities.

Those were the good mornings, the ones where the bottle called a little less strongly and the Grimm always seemed a little less dangerous. On the other hand, his love life wasn't all sunshines and daises. Some people really were just looking for a quick fuck and a warm body to make the night a little less cold. While he'd never say no to a less-empty bed, the mornings after...

They were rough.

Sometimes they just ate in silence, payed their half of the bill, and left without another word. Sometimes _they_ were the ones who were gone in the morning, and he'd wake up clutching at empty sheets and colder than he had any right to be. Most of them didn't leave a number, and the ones that did he didn't bother to call. Instead, he'd go out for coffee, added a shot of whiskey, and catch the first Bullhead to anywhere else. If that didn't get him to a different location in twenty-four hours, he flew.

Dramatic? Yeah. But it let him pretend like he wasn't quite as affected by the judgement. Like he hadn't hoped that he'd finally found someone special.

His optimism couldn't last. He knew that. Already he'd started spending more time at the bar and less time on the dance floor. He'd noticed himself missing hungry eyes and feather-light touches, obvious in hindsight. Every time he left a girl behind he felt a part of himself go with her, wondering if he shouldn't just turn around give it a shot, and to hell with the promise he made when he saw Tai weeping on the floor. Every time he was dozing on a red-eye or weaving between branches, he asked himself why he bothered, if it even mattered at all. A Hunter's days were numbered, so why spend any of them tied down?

Then something would happen. A cup would break, he'd bend down to pick up the pieces, a hand would meet his, he'd look up, and just like that they'd hit it off, chatting until her supervisor yelled at her to get back to work. He'd be sitting at a bar, playing with his empty glass, and then a woman more beautiful than he deserved would slide up next to him and buy him another drink. He'd learn a few more names, pick up a few memories for those lonely, lonely night out in the middle of nowhere.

He hated his Semblance sometimes. It made it damn near impossible to stay in one place and in team fights he was as likely to mess with his allies as with his enemies. On the other hand, it seemed to know when he needed a break, to recharge his batteries and remember what the damn point of fighting so hard was. It didn't ever turn into _good_ luck, not really, but it did let him simply _live_ from time to time.

Those were the nights, when the sweat had cooled and he could feel a slightly faster heart beating next to him, different eyes and different lips curling in the dark, those were the ones where he felt that made him keep trying. The ones that made him put on his rings and necklace, shave, shower, and generally get his shit together before he went out to face the day. Those nights and those mornings made it all worth it. That, and the dream he'd seen made real when Summer had put Tai back together for those four wonderful years. He had a hope, as stupid and naive and romantic as it was, and at the end of the day?

Sometimes that was enough.

"Name's Qrow Branwen. What's yours?"

"Alice Lyes. Are you here to dance or drink?"

"Like 'em both well enough, depending on if I have company."

"So you walked over to the loneliest corner of the bar, right next to little old me?"

"Gotta be the right type of company, otherwise what's the point?"

"I like the way you think. Two Blue Lagoons."

"You're buying?"

"These are for me. You seem more like a whiskey guy. That, and isn't the man supposed to be the one buying the drinks?"

"Heh. You're not wrong."


	8. Bronze in Shade

**A/N: Sorry about the lack of update yesterday. Stuff happened. I did post Somewhere Over the Rainbow, though. Apparently it's alright.**

* * *

"Vomit boy."

"Please don't call me that, Yang," Jaune said, lifting some noodles to his mouth dispassionately.

"Now that you're not pining after Weiss anymore," Yang continued, ignoring the request as she bounced an apple in her and, "are you planning on chasing any other tail?"

"Yang!" Ruby whined, slapping the back of her sister's head before turning to Jaune. "Ignore her, she forgot to put in her brain this morning."

"Indeed," Weiss said coldly. "I think it best if we all put such incidents behind us. Isn't that right, Jaune?" The heiress narrowed her eyes at the blond in question.

"Y-yeah, that might be for the best," he stuttered, turning away from the glare and checking his watch. "Well, would you look at the time! Gotta go read up for that test in Port's class!" He picked up his tray and hastily waved at them, a nervous smile across his face. "Later."

The other teens watched him go before looking back to one another.

"Wow, Weiss, I didn't know you had him whipped before you broke his heart," Nora said, shoveling another forkful of pancakes into her mouth. The heiress flushed a little and crossed her arms, turning away indignantly.

"I didn't break his heart! He stopped of his own accord," Weiss denied.

"Jaune didn't smile in our room for three days after the dance," Ren said neutrally. As most of the table leveled gazes of shock, awe, and betrayal at the rapidly-paling heiress, Blake stood up and took her leave from the table, tossing her tray into the trash and disappearing after Jaune.

Two green eyes followed her.

* * *

The first time Jaune met Blake in the library was entirely by coincidence.

"Oh, hey Blake! I didn't see you there," he said, sliding into a chair next to her.

"Hello, Jaune," she replied, staring at her book. "What are you doing here?"

"Just studying," he said, pulling out a textbook and a binder. He waited for her to respond. When she did not, he turned to his materials and began to work.

For thirty minutes, there was silence, save for the scratching of graphite on paper and the gentle rustle of pages turning.

Eventually, he closed the book with a _whump_ and leaned back in his chair, groaning.

"Ugh. If I read another sentence about non-Newtonian blood, I'm going to faint." After a moment, he turned to Blake, who was still reading her book. "Is that more interesting?"

"Yes," Blake said, not lifting her eyes from the page. A more socially-aware individual would take the word as the end of the conversation.

"What's it about?" Jaune, however, was not so astute.

"A bandit," she said, flicking an irritated glance towards the blond, who didn't notice.

"But what's the story?" he pressed, turning in his chair to face her. "Are we talking about a bad-guy bandit or a good-guy bandit?" Blake sighed and turned back to her novel.

"A little of both," she said. She was spared further interruption as the _click-clacking_ of heels.

"How are you doing, Jaune?" Pyrrha asked, sitting down beside him and smiling politely.

"Pretty good," he replied, the previous conversation forgotten as he twisted to talk to her. "How're you?"

"I'm fine," she said before looking pointedly at his study materials. "I wasn't aware that you studied in your spare time."

"I'm, uh, on a break," he said sheepishly, scratching the back of his head and looking away guiltily. "But I'm ready to start up again!" he added, opening up the textbook with false cheer.

As the two partners went into the finer details of Grimm anatomy, Blake marked her place and left the room, a small book tucked discreetly into the blond's bag.

* * *

The second time they meet, it's with one blushing and the other amused.

"So you know what type of bandit she is now, I take it?" Blake said dryly, gently closing her book. A new one, with a stylized flower on the front.

"Yeah I do," Jaune mumbled, sitting down next to her and once more pulling out his textbook. Once more, he spends thirty minutes focused, with the occasional glance towards the black-haired girl, who only smiled coyly in response.

Thirty minutes passed, the textbook closed, another book came out, and Jaune turned to Blake.

"You didn't tell me the book had... you know..." He started, then trailed off as his cheeks flushed.

"Sex?" Blake asked, a smirk twitching at the corner of her mouth.

"That!" Jaune said, refusing to meet her eyes.

"And?" she challenged, turning over another page. "Was it unpleasant to read?"

"No," he mumbled, refusing to meet her eyes and pushing the book across the table. Blake laughed, short and sweet, and took the book back. Soon enough, Pyrrha came by, Blake stood up, and another novel found its way into his bag.

* * *

It took four meetings for him to broach the question.

"Why do you do this to me?"

"Do what?" Blake asked innocently, studiously avoiding looking at the blushing blond.

"Why do you keep giving me your..." he fumbled for a word before giving up. "Books."

"I thought you'd enjoy them," Blake said, one of her now-familiar smirks flickering across her face. "Am I wrong?"

Jaune groaned as his face fell into his text book. "Blake, is this one of those cat things where you bring me dead birds as a sign of affection?" When he didn't get a response, he looked up. Blake stared back at him, eyes narrowed.

"Too far?" he asked.

"Yes."

"I'm sorry," he apologized. "How can I make it up to you?"

"Talk."

"About what?"

"The books." When he looked away and blushed, she sighed. "Ruby's too young, Yang's not a reader, and the last time I gave Weiss a book recommendation she hissed at me. I'd like to talk to _someone_ about my stories."

"Okay," he said. "Talk... I can do that. What to talk about? Like, which book, which part of which book, are we going to talk about the characters, the plot, uh..." he trailed off as her golden eyes stared at him, slowly robbing him of his confidence. After a moment of silence he tried again. "So... what do you want to talk about?"

"How about The Wanderer?"

They talked. Pyrrha came by. Blake left. This time, she left a slip of paper with a number into his hoodie.

Two green eyes watched her go.

* * *

The next time they meet, it's not at the library. Close, though.

"Blake, as much as I like hanging out with you, this isn't really my scene." Jaune said, looking up at the truly imposing number of books surrounding him. All Blake's text had given was an address, a time, and instructions to dress nice. It didn't tell him that they'd be meeting up in front of a bookstore closer to a book warehouse, it didn't tell him that he'd be waiting for twenty minutes, and it _certainly_ didn't tell him that Blake would show up without her bow. "Also, you're, uh," he gestured towards his head. Blake rolled her eyes.

"No one here's going to see me at Beacon," she replied, dragging him down an isle behind her, "And the bow get irritating sometimes. That, and this is my scene." She'd changed into a long black sundress and flats, her ears barely tickling his chin as he stumbled along.

"So, why'd you bring me along?" Jaune asked. When she turned around and gave him a flat look, he shrugged. "I mean, it's a legitimate question!"

"Voice down," she said, turning again to look at the shelves. "One reason is that I'm stocking back up, and I want a pack mule."

"In that case why not ask Yang?" Jaune asked. Blake pulled a book of the shelf, scanned the back, then pressed it into his chest, looking him in the eye. Jaune grabbed the book instinctively, transfixed.

"She can't help with the other reason," Blake said, twisting away and leaving him still. After a moment she looked over her shoulder, a small grin on her face. "Come mule, I have more labors for you."

"Is this revenge for the dead bird comment?" He asked. Blake put another book in his arms.

"No, but that's another convenient excuse," she said, letting her hand linger on his arm before moving away again. Jaune sighed and followed her.

Jaune guessed, Blake answered, and the truth remained hidden. Books piled up, books were bought, and they went out to lunch.

* * *

"What did you see in Weiss?" Blake asked, setting aside her tuna melt to look at Jaune. After swallowing down the last of his sandwich, he sat back and sighed.

"That's... a big question. And I don't, uh, really have a good answer." He cringed a little, shoulders slumping and eyes going to his cup of coffee. Blake took a sip of her own beverage and looked across the table.

"You do have an answer, though." Jaune nodded. She took another sip, then placed her cup down. "I'd like to know what it was."

He looked up to meet Blake's eyes. "Are you going to tell her?" Blake shrugged.

"If she asks, and if I think she deserves to know." Jaune closed his eyes, took a deep breath in, then let it out.

Then he started talking.

"Weiss is really, really pretty, and way out of my league. So I thought 'hey, I'm finally going to be a Hunter, might as well chase my dreams.'" He traced the rim of his cup, eyes still closed. "One of those dreams was having a girlfriend. You know, someone to talk to, take out on dates, and, uh," he paused, blushing a little as he put down his cup. "Anyway. I wanted to have a girlfriend. I thought it'd, you know, be a tuning point. Like, old Jaune was a super-lame wuss, but new Jaune is a Hunter in training with a hot girlfriend! Completely different person." Jaune dropped his head into his hands. "Pretty stupid, huh? All about Jaune friggin' Arc." After a moment, his arms fell forward and his head hit the table. "The more I look back at it, the worse it is," he mumbled. "I'm just glad she never froze me solid."

He felt something warm and soft press against his palm. When he looked up, Blake had her hand over his, a small smile on his face.

"We all mess up, Jaune," she started softly. "We think we know what we want, we chase after it, and when we finally get it we learn that it wasn't it was cracked up to be. So we pick something else to want and keep doing the same thing over and over again."

Jaune turned his hand over and gently intertwined his fingers, a cautious smile on his face.

"Thanks, Blake. I mean it." She squeezed.

"I know."

* * *

As the day came to a close, the temperature dropped rapidly. When Blake began to shiver as they walked around a pond, Jaune asked if she was done shopping. Blake said yes, and they caught the first bullhead back to Beacon. Unfortunately, it wasn't much warmer in the vehicle than it was outside. After a moment of consideration, Blake sat on Jaune's lap, bow replaced, and pulled his arms around her.

"Uh, Blake-" he started before being interrupted by a finger to his lips.

"Hush. It's cold and you're warm," she said, snuggling closer. After a moment, he gave up and adjusted his arms slightly, falling into a comfortable silence.

"This was nice," he commented.

"Indeed," she said, dropping her head to his shoulder. He rubbed her arm absentmindedly and she purred quietly. When Jaune raised an eyebrow, she shrugged. "It _was_ nice."

They went back to their rooms. Along the way, a woman in red caught sight of them and began to think.

* * *

This time, their meeting was interrupted.

"Blake, would you be willing to spar with me?" Blake blinked, startled out of her trance. Jaune was still scribbling away at his homework, and it took her a moment to locate the source. When she did, Blake paled.

"Maybe later," she said quietly, looking up and Pyrrha Nikos, who smiled amiably in response.

"Nonsense. My schedule is packed and I can't imagine yours is any less full. That, and I haven't fought an agility-type fighter in a while. Unless, of course, you have other plans?" she asked. Blake's gaze flicked towards Jaune, then back to the redhead, who was still smiling just a bit too brightly.

"If you insist..."

* * *

At the next meal, Blake collapsed into her seat, heading falling to the table, groaning. Yang raised an eyebrow.

"What happened to you, kitty-cat? Spend too long reenacting one of your books?" Blake glared balefully at her partner.

"I went three rounds with Pyrrha," she said, and Yang winced in sympathy.

"Why'd you do that to yourself?" Yang asked, pushing her bowl of soup to the side and turning towards Blake. "Also, that doesn't really answer my question. Pyrrha's usually pretty good at not going too far."

"This time I think it was personal." Blake groaned, grimacing as she pushed herself up to sitting. "Ugh, I'm going to be feeling this for _days_."

"What did you even do? Drag Vomit Boy in a closet and make him Vomit Man?" When Blake didn't respond, Yang's eyes went wide and her jaw dropped. "No."

"I didn't!" Blake denied, irritation seeping into her voice. "I just took him out on a date to a bookstore. He didn't even realize it was a date," she muttered, looking across the cafeteria to the table JNPR was sitting at.

"I mean, did you do anything romantic?" Yang asked. Blake rolled her eyes.

"Does near-continuous ass-to-thigh contact on the bullhead back count?" Yang blinked once, then grinned, looking across the room at her fellow blonde.

"He really is thick as a brick, isn't he?" Blake sighed.

"Yes. Yes he is." After a short laugh, Yang turned back to her partner, eyes serious.

"Did Pyrrha threaten you into stopping?" Blake shook her head, a short sigh breath escaping her.

"She asked if I was serious about him. If I thought I could break his heart on accident, and if I was going to commit to something long-term. She wasn't going to hurt me for answering wrong," Blake clarified when Yang's eyes flickered briefly red. "She just wanted to know what I was looking for."

"What _were_ you looking for?" Yang asked, peeling a banana and staring intently at Blake.

"Someone to make the nights a little less cold and the days a little brighter," she answered, shrugging with one shoulder. "When I told Pyrrha, she told me Jaune wouldn't see it that way. That he'd want something more intimate." Blake stretched her arm gingerly, eyes crinkling in displeasure as sore muscles stretched. "She made a pretty good case for it."

"So that's it?" Yang asked. Blake nodded.

"Jaune is safe from me." Yang watched as Blake hissed in pain as she reached for a piece of fruit, a incredulous expression on her face.

"And the Nikos-brand beating?" Blake blushed.

"That was after I agreed to stop. Catharsis, she said," Blake answered. Yang looked across the room, first to the blonde, then to Pyrrha, a smile slowly growing across her face.

"So all I need to do to convince Pyrrha to get serious is flirt with Vomit Boy?" Blake's eyes went wide.

"Yang, no!"

"Yang yes!" the brawler said, standing up, banana in one hand and a gleam in her eyes, walking across the cafeteria. Blake could only look on in horror as Yang sat down next to Jaune and started swallowing down the banana, drawing the gaze of every red-blooded male in sight. After finishing it off, Yang turned her lilac eyes to the noodle, a wide smile on her face.

"So, Jauney Boy, how was your day?" He blushed furiously and started stammering, even as two green eyes locked onto a new target.


	9. Sources of Shade

"I'm _done_!"

The two Faunus stopped arguing and turned towards the source of the outburst, eyes wide. Blake's chest was heaving as she glared daggers at the two of them.

"I have tried being polite. I've tried being diplomatic. But this has gone too far." When Sun and Ilia looked away from her sheepishly, Blake snapped her fingers and pointed at the kitchen. "I asked you two to make _breakfast_ together, and somehow you _blew up the kitchen_!" The blond and the brunette looked at each other for a moment, then to Blake as they began trying to throw one another under the bus.

"It was her fault-"

"If this monkey-"

"ENOUGH!"

The shout shocked the two into silence.

"I am giving you both homework. That you have to complete together." Sun's jaw dropped as he looked at Ilia, and in return Ilia gazed at him in horror.

"That's the stupidest-"

"You can't possibly-"

Blake raised a hand, silencing them both. "If you don't, I'm going to ask Mom to take you both back to Menagerie. In fact, I'm going to _insist_ she does," Blake added, eyes narrowing. The two browbeaten individuals adopted nearly-identical expressions of betrayal. "Don't give me that!" Blake snapped. "You brought this on yourselves. Now give me a five-page essay on a Ninjas of Love novel before seven, or else Kali is going to have two more passengers for her boat."

The two watched as Blake turned around and left the room, at first focused on the back of her head, then lower. Once they both got their minds out of the gutter, they locked gazes.

"You were totally staring at her ass!"

"And you weren't!? At least I kept it tasteful!"

"How do you ogle tastefully!?"

* * *

"Holy crap it's twelve!"

"What does that have to do with anything?" Ilia asked, moving into Sun's personal space. "Don't tell me you have something more important to do?"

"The book report!" At those words Ilia went pale and stepped back.

"You don't think she'd actually..." Ilia trailed off. Sun looked at her solemnly.

"We're talking about a girl that ran away from home to join a terrorist organization, ran away from _that_ to become a huntress, then took a ship to get back home, and then she started a _coup_ in the terrorist organization she left." Ilia collapsed into a chair, one hand going to her face.

"We're screwed," she said quietly. Sun scratched his head.

"Uh, no we aren't." When Ilia looked up at him dismissively he shrugged one shoulder and sat down across from her. "I mean, a book report in seven hours? Me and my buddies back at Haven used to leave our essays to the last minute all the time, and we never got less than a C." When Ilia's face showed the amount of doubt that statement generated, Sun raised an eyebrow in response. "I mean, I was in the top five people in my class. Book smarts and practicals."

"Do you think Blake is going to accept a C-grade paper?" Ilia asked, waving her hand dismissively.

"I mean, the homework isn't the point," Sun said. When Ilia looked at him questioningly, he elaborated. "I mean, remember what she said about breakfast?"

"That you ruined it?" Ilia asked. Sun's eyes flashed, but he pressed on.

"She said it was supposed to be a team building exercise, right?" When Ilia didn't comment, he continued. "I don't think she actually cares about how good it is. She just wants to see us to work together on something and not blow up a kitchen."

Ilia nodded. "Blake was never good at asking for what she wanted," she says quietly. Sun looked at her awkwardly for a moment. As the silence stretched on, he coughed. Ilia looked up at him.

"So, I don't actually know what book she was talking about," he confessed, rubbing the back of his head sheepishly as he looked away. "If you could help me find a copy, then maybe we can make it a B paper instead."

Ilia sighed and stood up, motioning towards the door. Sun followed.

* * *

"Blake used to take me shopping all the time," Ilia said as she browsed the shelves, running a finger along the spines of the novels. "She was always so happy when she found something new to read."

"And she'll chat your ear off about it, even if you've never read it," Sun said, pulling out a book and glancing at the title before replacing it. "I mean, she's awesome, but everyone's gotta have a flaw."

"And hers is assuming that everyone knows or wants to know about the dynamic of Kanna, Shiro and Yunika," Ilia muttered darkly, grabbing a volume off of the shelf and nodding. "This one's short and a stand alone. C'mon, let's go," she said, walking towards the door. Sun followed behind, the two sharing a comfortable silence as they walked away.

"You totally just stole that book, didn't you?" Sun said once they were about a block away.

"Did you bring any lien?" Ilia asked, arching an eyebrow as she opened up the book and started skimming.

"Nah. Just didn't know you had it in you," he replied, lacing his hands behind his head and smirking.

"Please. I used to blow up trains. Shoplifting's not going to cause me grief," Ilia said dismissively. Sun laughed.

"Okay then, what's the book about?"

* * *

"This makes no sense," Ilia moaned, dropping her head into the book. Sun looked up from his tablet and gave her a flat look.

"You're not great at the school stuff, are you?" he asked. When Ilia glared balefully up at him he lifted his hands in surrender. "I mean, no one's good at everything, and you probably had other things to do so it kinda makes sense that writing about books maybe wasn't high on the list of stuff to learn."

"But what the hell does she want us to actually say?" Ilia said, grabbing her head with her hands. "I mean, this book is just two people talking for an hundred and fifty pages, having sex, then being forced to fight to the death! What's the point?" Sun winced.

"I mean, maybe it's a metaphor about love?" When Ilia met his eyes, he looked away. "Yeah, I don't buy it either. But sometimes you've gotta pretend like you know what you're doing, right? Fake it til you make it."

"But then you're lying!" Ilia said, standing up and cutting the air in front of her. "Why bother bullshitting? Take a different class, disagree! What's the point?" For a single moment, she was proud. Then Sun laughed and Ilia realized just how ridiculous she had gotten.

"Yeah, smack those academics out of their ivory towers!" Sun said, lifting his fist into the air mockingly. "Fight the power." Ilia flushed, sitting back down and looking into a corner.

"It's still stupid," Ilia muttered. Sun nodded.

"I mean, you're not wrong. A lot of it's really stupid."

"So why do it?" Ilia asked, turning to face Sun. "Why play the game?"

"'Cause fighting it won't change anything," he said, shrugging and tapping out a few more words on the tablet. "Like, I don't like writing this stuff. But I need to be able to do it to be a Hunter, and complaining isn't going to get it done. So I suck it up and do work I don't like. Plus, yelling at the prof's not going to help me pass the class, and it's not going to get Blake less angry." Ilia sighed at the last words and re-opened the book, eye crinkling at the edges.

"It's just..." she fumbles for the words before shrugging. "It feels so hopeless. Like it's never going to get done, like nothing's ever going to get done. How do you commit?" she asked, underlining a passage.

"I think about what I want and ask if finishing whatever I'm doing is going to help," Sun said, spinning the tablet around and pushing it across the table. "It's all about the end point. Anyway, here's the first draft. Got any quotes?"

Ilia nodded, scrolling through the doc while flipping through the book. "Yeah, I've more or less _holycrapit'ssixfiftyalready!_ " she said, jumping up and tapping furiously at the screen.

"Wait, really?" Sun said, getting out of his chair and opening a window. "C'mon, maybe we can convince her to give us a thirty minute grace period!"

The two Faunus leaped out the window and started running, headless of the stares and curses hurled at them, united in their desire to be on time.

* * *

"So I know we're a little late but trust me..."

"I'm so sorry Blake, we lost track of time and..."

The two trailed off simultaneously as they stared at the girl in pink and boy in green, quietly drinking tea and staring the the two intruders.

"Are you two looking for Blake?" Ren asked, gently placing his cup down.

"She scampered off, like, half an hour ago," Nora said, slurping down her own drink. "She left a note, though." The bomber held out a sheet of paper and the two Faunus crowded around to read.

 _Dear Sun and Ilia,_

 _Since you guys didn't arrive in time to eat, I decided to head out with Jaune and Yang. We'll be back late, so don't wake up._

 _I also want you to know that I'm not actually planning to ship you two off to Menagerie. You both have a special place in my heart, even if I don't know what that place is. I just don't want you two to fight all the time! It's taxing, mentally and emotionally, to see my friends fighting one another, and I finally got sick of it._

 _Please. Try to make up._

 _Blake_

 _P.S. Yang here. Bellabooty is MINE._

 _P.P.S. Jaune. Yang said she'll share Bellabooty with her other favorite blond. Sorry Sun, I tried to convince her to pick you. No dice._

 _P.P.P.S. Yang. Jaune's not lying. Don't hold it against him, I kind promised to knock his block off if he didn't go along with it._

 _P.P.P.P.S. Yang again. If either of you tell Blake about these post-scripts, I will end you._

The two looked at the one another, then to the letter, then to one another.

"Damnit Ilia!" Sun said, throwing up his arms in frustration.

"Damit Ilia? This is all your fault!" the brunette said, jabbing a finger into the money Faunus's chest. "If you hadn't tried to make if fancy, we could've been back here before six!"

The argument raged, the tea was drunk, and all was right in the world.

* * *

 **A/N: This one is less good. Sorry about that. School's kinda kicking my ass.**


	10. Sunlight and Lillies, Growing in Ruin

Ren was very particular about his likes and dislikes.

Cooking was good. Take-out was bad. Quiet was soothing. Silence was unpleasant. While there were levels to everything, he could generally place objects, people, or experiences into a neat little category and use it as a rule of thumb to guide his reactions. He never committed these categories to paper, but a short consideration was generally enough to come to a conclusion about where a new variable would belong.

And then there was Jaune Arc.

He was... less than skilled. In _many_ areas. While that didn't independently determine his leader's category on it's own, it wasn't nothing.

He was rude. Passive. Irritating. Sometimes cowardly. Disrespectful of others' opinions. Thick enough to miss his partner's increased desire for him. The mixture of such things should've been offensive at best, repulsive at worst.

Instead, Ren took it in stride. He didn't know precisely why. So he did as all scholars do and made a list. On one side, Jaune's flaws. On the other, his strengths.

Cowardice. Except when his friends needed help. Weakness. That he was trying to address. Rude. A staple of the Jaune from months ago, now barely recognizable. Passive. No longer. Disrespectful. But he wasn't anymore. Ignorant.

Except he had talked to Pyrrha a few days ago and the air was awkward between the two of them. It didn't take a genius to figure out that Jaune had caught onto something, and that Pyrrha was less than pleased about it. He'd have to talk to her later, but for now...

For now he had a list of fault and features that balanced itself out perfectly.

This did not solve his problem.

Ren stood and walked towards the door. Nora perked her head up and lowered her headphones.

"Where'ya going Renny?" she asked.

"To see Jaune," he replied.

* * *

Wonder was pleasant. Fear was not.

Ren observed Pyrrha and Jaune's spar on the rooftop with an impassive eye, even as he swallowed down the concern. He'd fought Pyrrha. Once. It had been a massacre. He'd seen Nora, who could bowl over an Ursa, failed to so much as land a hit on her. Out of all the people he knew, only Ruby had come close to touching the Invincible Girl, and that was thanks to a combination of the wind and her Semblance. Even then, she hadn't actually won.

He'd also sparred with Jaune, enough to have a rough grasp of his skill level. More than a police officer, less than even a poor student at a combat academy. Remarkable improvement by any means, but still not enough. Jaune knew that, and was learning the depths of the gap between himself and everyone else, and kept trying to bridge it. It was admirable, but it also left Ren's teammate blissfully ignorant of just how terrifying his partner was.

Ren saw Jaune overextend and his breath caught. Pyrrha rapped Jaune on the back of his head with the shaft of her spear.

"Control, Jaune. Just because you _can_ take a hit-"

"Doesn't mean I should," Jaune finished, rubbing the back of his head and smiling nervously at his partner. "Sorry about that." He fell back into a fighting stance, legs apart, arms up, eyes forward. "Ready?"

Pyrrha responded with a jab and Ren let out his breath. He had seen three ways for Pyrrha to hurt Jaune. Badly. Ways that didn't care about Aura reserves, that abused the nature of the human body as a bunch of ropes and unusually delicate joints.

Ways that Pyrrha was almost certainly aware of.

It was like watching a lion play tag with corgi.

Ren looked on, observing every slip-up, every error in Jaune's style. He noted how Pyrrha never punished them hard enough to hurt, but hard enough to teach.

Ren stayed there for a long time. Watching. Tensing. Relaxing. Worrying.

Eventually, the sun set, and the two Hunter-in-training fell to rest.

"Thanks Pyr," Jaune said, sheathing his sword and extending his hand, smiling.

"You're welcome, Jaune," Pyrrha replied, grabbing his hand and pulling him into a hug. After a moment, Jaune returned it. Reluctantly. The two of them started walking away. Ren followed.

* * *

Trust was comforting. On the other hand, it was not necessary.

"Pyrrha, may I speak with you?" Ren asked, hands clasped behind his back.

"Of course," Pyrrha said, looking up from her textbook. Nora looked between Ren and Pyrrha, then to Jaune, and closed her own binder.

"Heya Jaune, wanna go sloth-hunting?" she asked, tugging on the blond's arm.

"Uh, not really?" Jaune said, turning towards her. When Nora made a pointed gesture with her head and Jaune turned to look at his other two teammates, the pieces clicked into place. "I mean, sure, let's get going."

Once Jaune and Nora vacated the room, Ren spoke.

"Are you still interested in Jaune?"

Pyrrha's expression and she looked away, a slight flush on her face.

"Perhaps there would be a better time-"

"No," Ren said, sitting down on the bed next to her and meeting her eyes. "There's won't be."

The silence stretched on.

"Yes." When Ren didn't react, Pyrrha slammed her fist into her desk, denting the wood. "Yes, damnit! He took me aside and asked if I liked him! If I wanted to be 'together-together.'" She raised both of her hands, adding the quotation marks, uncharacteristic sarcasm leaking into her voice. "And when I said yes he said that he just didn't feel the same! That he didn't know what I saw in him, and that I could do better!"

"Pyrrha-" Ren began.

"No!" she shouted, standing up and sending her chair falling to the ground, glaring without seeing and curling her hands into claws. "He thinks that he knows what I want, that somehow he's not worthy! That I've spent all this time on him out of some sort of pity or misguided affection or some other inane reason and he's _wrong_!" she finished, chest heaving. After a moment she relaxed her arms, fingers going flat. "He's wrong, but it doesn't matter, because he doesn't feel the same way."

Ren was silent as she sniffled, thinking of how to phrases his next words.

"Would you mind if I talked to him?" Pyrrha sniffled once more and put on a bitter smile.

"I don't think that you can convince him Ren. That, and I don't want him to go out with me if..." she trailed off, leaning against the wall. Ren let her recover, then began again when she seemed ready.

"I wasn't talking about helping you," he said quietly. Pyrrha looked at him blankly a moment. Then realization dawned.

"I... Ren I didn't..."

"I don't make a big deal of it," Ren said quietly, meeting her gaze. "I'm going to, but I figured that I should ask you first."

The silence stretched out. Long enough that Ren began to worry Nora wouldn't be able to distract Jaune for enough time.

Then Pyrrha's shoulders started shaking. Ren blinked.

At first it was a chuckle, barely detectable. Then it evolved into a belly laugh, long and deep and mirthful, until it came back down into hiccuping sobs. Ren reached up cautiously, not sure what to do, but Pyrrha waved it off, rubbing at her eyes. Ren tossed her a packet of tissues. She nodded gratefully in his direction, blowing her nose twice. Once her breathing returned to normal, she turned to Ren.

"Do what you will," she said. When Ren hesitated, she sat down next him and placed a hand on his shoulder, a strained smiling working its way onto her face. "Don't let my worries stop you. If Jaune is happy with you," she sniffled again and pulled the boy into a hug, "then I'll share it. Ask him."

Ren returned the hug, squeezing gently. When they parted she nodded and went back to her chair, setting it right and returning to her book. Ren took out his scroll, sent a quick message, and stood up, moving to the door. He paused, then turned back to Pyrrha.

"Wish me luck," he said quietly. Pyrrha turned around, melancholy already setting in.

"Luck," she said.

* * *

 **A/N: You would not believe the amount of work that has gone into this one-shot. Now onto serious shit.**

 **It's finals time. That means I'm not going to have as much time to write. Sorry about the recent lack of content, a lot of stuff came to a head at once. Maybe I'll get a few more little things done, but for the most part this is going to be it for the next three weeks. Maybe more chapters of Collagen.**

 **I tip myself to you,**

 **T0PH4T**


	11. Bottle

The problem with getting her friends good and drunk, Yang realized through the vague floatiness of her Sunrise-induced inebriation as she reclined on the couch and watched her friends bicker semi-coherently, was that almost none of them knew what to do afterwards.

You couldn't get a bunch of Hunters-in-training to play beer pong. Well, you _could_ , but you _shouldn't_. A passing grade in projectile marksmanship meant that you could nail a fly to a cork board using a playing card and a flick of the wrist, which in turn kinda took all the interest out of the game. Most of the people in the room were either the sort of try-hards that got certified in every weapon group as a matter of principal or _way too interested_ in weapons to pass up on a chance to learn something new, a game of skill seemed like a questionable decision at best.

Bullshit pyramid only worked when people couldn't do high-level data analysis in their heads for fun. Weiss and Pyrrha would both figure out the odds in the later stages of the game, and Blake and Ren weren't much worse at numbers. At that point, it'd be less fun and more random chance deciding who was going to get the most sloshed.

So why not skip straight to the fun part?

"Okay guys, we've got one empty bottle of vodka," Yang said, holding the object in question up to the light and drawing all eyes to her. "You know what this means," she said, spinning the bottle on her palm and grinning.

"We need more alcohol?" Jaune asked, turning away from his conversation with Ruby to face her. He was still nursing his second drink, but it was a _strong_ second drink.

"That you've had far too much?" Weiss snarked, a flush clear on her cheeks as she reclined on a chair with a back taller than she was.

"Spin the bottle," Yang answered, plopping onto the carpet and placing the bottle in front of her. When the room fell silent she rolled her eyes. "Come on you, live a little. Except for you Ruby," she added, pointing to her sister. "I don't want icky sibling germs."

"Then why don't you sit out?" Ruby replied, kneeling across from Yang and sticking out her tongue. Meanwhile, Weiss rolled her eyes and took a long sip of her wine.

"I refuse." When this was met by a chorus of groans from the blondes in the room, her eyes narrowed. "Such a base act is below me-"

"It's because you haven't kissed anyone yet, isn't it Ice Queen?" Blake interrupted, sitting down and crossing her legs next to her partner, then smirking up at the heiress. "If you don't want us to know about your inexperience, that's also fine." Weiss stiffened, then slowly stood up and walked over the the Faunus, looking down at her. Blake looked back, unimpressed.

"I know what you're doing, Belladonna," Weiss said casually. "You want to use my pride to convince me to play this inane, degrading game." She turned around and sat down, drawing a squeak from Blake as she leaned back against her teammate. "Is it everything you've hoped for?"

Jaune finished off the last of his drink and settled down across from Weiss and Blake. When Weiss gave him a flat look he winced.

"Weiss, would getting a peck from me be that bad?" he asked. "Or is this some sort of weird RWBY-only thing?"

"Too late!" Nora announced, dragging Ren down with her as she practically fell down next to Ruby, causing the slightly-taller girl to jump. "Ren and I are playing too!"

"I shall join as well then," Pyrrha said, folding her legs next to Jaune and leaning lightly into him. Yang grinned.

"Okay, got the whole gang then. So, who wants to go first?" Almost before she finished, Nora's hand lashed out, sending the bottle into a violent spin. Yang raised an eyebrow.

"Thirsty, are we?" Nora didn't reply, staring at the bottle it as it slowed, shifting from Jaune to Pyrrha to Yang... to the comfortable seated Weiss and slightly less-than comfortable Blake.

"Weiss, _move_ ," Nora said, walking across the floor on all fours and locking eyes with Blake. The heiress relocated, taking a spot next to Pyrrha as she observed the orange haired girl came closer to Blake, lips closing in...

... only to change target at the last second, lightly kissing the other girl on the nose.

"Boop," she said, retreating across the circle. After a moment, Yang broke out into laughter, bring the rest of them along with it.

"Well that's _one_ way to do it!" Yang said finally, heaving in a breath and wiping her eye. "Okay Blakey, you're up now." After pouting at the slowly-dying laughter Blake sighed and gently spun the bottle.

"Act like you've never seen a kiss before," Blake muttered, tracing the bottle with her eyes. As it slowed to a stop she groaned, even as more laughs came up.

"Oh come on, I'm not _that_ bad," Yang said, mock hurt in her voice as she batted her eyelashes at her partner and presented her cheek. "Now give me some sugar kittykat."

"Hate you so much," Blake said between grit teeth, going over to give her partner a small kiss, eyes squeezed shut. That's why when Yang twisted her head to bring her lips to bear, she was completely unprepared for it.

"Yang!" Blake said, jerking back after a few seconds of contacts, blushing furiously. Yang feigned innocence, and gestured towards herself.

"Me?" she asked, drawing another round of laughter from the crowd. "What did I do?"

"Try to shove your tongue down my throat!" Blake hissed, ears pressing flat against her head and a gentle whine coming from her throat. "Why'd you- I mean- I thought-"

"My my, it looks like our dear Belladonna can't take it quite as well as she can give it," Weiss said, smiling at the other girl with far too many teeth. "So, how was that kiss?"

"... just spin the bottle," Blake said, hiding her head in her hands. Yang turned her attention to the center and whacked the stem, sending the glass around again.

Drinks were refilled, laughs were had, and kisses were given. Weiss received a polite peck on the cheek from Ren, while Pyrrha held Jaune a little closer than was strictly necessary during their own smooch. Nora was a wild card, going all-out or completely chaste in equal measure, sometimes to the same person. Ruby and Yang had to wash their mouths when the worst possible match happened, and Blake began to hate the feeling of tongue on tongue.

Then the unexpected happened.

"Finally! Some fucking Yaoi!" Blake shouted, punching the air and smiling. She'd begun to drink again after the second kiss with Ruby, and was now deep in her cups, leaning against her partner for support. "Smooch already!"

Jaune gulped nervously and eyed Ren as the other boy moved closer. After an awkward pause he started talk.

"So, uh, how do you want to do this? Like I get that I spun the bottle and I'm supposed to start but you're a bro and I don't know-"

"Shut up and kiss me," Ren said quietly, winding a hand to the back of his head and guiding Jaune's mouth to his.

Wolf whistles went out and Blake made nosies of appreciation that drew a blush to Weiss's face. The whistles died out as the two _didn't_ stop. Once Ren moved into Jaune's lap things started getting awkward.

"Uh, Ren? You can stop. Any time now. Like. Actually. Please?" Yang said, voice slowly growing more quiet as time went on and it became increasingly apparent that the two of them weren't stopping anytime soon. Ren tangled a second hand in Jaune's hair, even as the blond's hand worked its way under Ren's shirt, the two slowly moving horozontal.

"We should go," Nora whispered, tugging on Pyrrha's arm even as her eyes refused to stray from the spectacle before them.

"Yeah, just a minute," Pyrrha said, patting Nora and refusing to move. Yang grabbed Ruby and dragged the girl away, even and Weiss slung Blake's arm over her shoulder and hauled the cat Faunus out of the room, who was busy muttering something about Shiro and Joske's forbidden love.

Then the hoodie came off, Ren's ponytail became undone, and Nora manhandled Pyrrha away, giving her childhood friend the room for the night.

* * *

 **A/N: Again, it ain't great. On the other hand, I'm done with most of my finals! Just one left...**


	12. Sonrise

Nicholas Arc thought of himself as a fair man. Slow to anger and quick to forgive, he was a moderating influence on his wife's more intense flights of fancy. He understood that there were always two sides to a story, that no one saw themselves as the villain in their own mind, and that it was never too late to make a change.

But, when he learned that his son had been surrounded by half a dozen beautiful women for _months_ and he hadn't managed to get _one_ date...

He felt a little righteous fury was in order.

"How did you manage to avoid making _any_ connections to the girls around you?" he asked, staring at his son from across the table and shaking his head. "Come on Jaune, you're dropping the ball here."

"This can't be happening," Jaune said, head falling to the table with a solid _thunk_. "It's just a bad dream one that's going to go away when I wake up." Pyrrha absentmindedly began to pat him on the back, staring at the older man before her.

"You're Jaune's father?" she asked, a note of disbelief in her voice. Nicholas nodded, armour clinking slightly as he shifted in his seat.

"In the flesh," he answered. "You're Jaune's partner?" When Pyrrha nodded cautiously, he smiled. "Good. Was afraid he'd paired up with some knucklehead. How's he coming along? I mean besides the dating," he added, drawing another groan from Jaune and a small blush from Pyrrha. "That's clearly been a bust."

"You could ask _me_ ," Jaune grumbled, head still firmly on the table. "You could even ask me somewhere more _private_." Pyrrha looked meaningfully at Nora and Ren, who were picking at their food and shooting the occasional sideways glance at the older man. Nicholas followed her gaze and shrugged.

"They're your team. Pretty sure they already know everything she'd tell me, and I can't trust _you_ to give me a completely honest answer," Nicholas said, drawing a glare from his son, which affected him not at all. "You know what he said about his signing the day before his first guitar recital?" Nicholas asked, turning to the red head. "He said it was fine. We go there the day, in the big group of people, and as soon as his finger touch the strings-"

"I suck, Dad," Jaune said, lifting his head and meeting his father's gaze. "I'm barely scraping by in theory and practical, and I'm probably the worst fighter in the year. Happy?" he added sarcastically, eyes narrowing as a silence descended.

Then Ren spoke.

"Jaune does himself a disservice," Ren said, placing down his fork and knife. "While his knowledge of the material itself suffers from a lack of prior education, he has shown an aptitude for learning that makes up most of the gap. Furthermore, he presents novel solutions to tactical exercises, most of which are sound. I suspect the majority of his missing points comes from a nonstandard notation system and a general unfamiliarity with prefered academic structure, _not_ a deficit of ability." Ren looked towards Pyrrha, who blinked once before nodding back and turned towards Nicholas.

"While Jaune's martial abilities are not quite..." she trailed off, searching for a word before taking a breath and closing her eyes. "While Jaune is not as skilled as myself or the rest of the student body, he has been working from _nothing_." This was accompanied by a glare towards the older blond, who took it without flinching. "In the brief time I have been tutoring him, Jaune has moved from completely untrained to competent enough to handle an Ursa on his own. While that absolute standard is below Beacon's minimum requirements, his growth patterns suggest that he _will_ be good enough by the end of the year. Beyond that, if he can keep learning at the rate he is, I believe that he will grow into a Huntsman fit to match _me_." She turned to Nora, eyes alight with passion. After a moment, Ren nudged her side. The other redhead looked up, blinking twice and turning from Pyrrha to Nicholas.

"They kind covered it. He's pretty smart and the fighting thing will fix itself." She shoved another forkful of pancake into her mouth and tilted her head, eyes still focused on Nicholas. "Why'd you stop him from going to whichever combat school anyway?" Nora asked around her food.

"The reason I didn't let him go to Signal was because he'd dropped half a dozen other hobbies when he ran out of interest and I wasn't prepared to let him pick a dangerous job without the resolve to see it through," he replied, nodding towards Jaune. "Now that's not so much of an issue. Seems to have given him a spine, too."

"You mean you're not mad?" Jaune asked skeptically, drawing a deep, booming laugh from his father.

"Furious! Absolutely _fucking_ livid!" he answered jovial, smiling wide. "Did you know Juniper was crying for a week after you left?" Jaune's expression fell, even as Pyrrha's became more complicated and Ren and Nora exchanged looks. "Sapphire came home to help look after Lavender and Amber while I tried to help her figure some stuff out. That took a month." The older man paused, letting it sink in. "You're going to call her first thing after this, alright?"

"Yeah," Jaune said quietly, staring at his lap. "I will." Once more Pyrrha's hand went to his shoulder, squeezing gently.

"Anyway, once I started looking, it wasn't actually that hard to find you," Nicholas continued, waving his hand dismissively and leaning over the table. "I just asked around for forgers, found the ones that could do transcripts, and beat them bloody until one of them 'fessed up to working on you." Nora and Ren blinked and the casual mention of violence, but the older man pressed on. "Picked up a few bounties, talked with Ozpin, and found out my boy had enrolled in Beacon."

"So what do you want?" Nora asked, tossing her fork onto her plate and propping up her head on one arm. "I mean, you could totally tell Ozpin that Jaune's faking it, but you didn't. So that means you probably don't want to just drag him back with you."

"Smart girl," Nicholas said, pointing to her without turning away from Jaune, then dropping his arm to the table. "No, I'm just here to make sure he's not going to get himself killed on accident and remind him that he has a family. That, and offer some advice," he added, winking at Pyrrha and drawing a blush from Jaune.

"Dad, your advice sucks!" Jaune said, slapping his face and leaning back. "I tried the whole confidence thing with Weiss and it was a total failure." Nicholas raised an eyebrow.

"Confidence?" he asked quizzically. Then realization dawned. "You mean the talk I gave you when you were ten? You took that seriously?"

"Yes! Yes I did!" Jaune said back, hand dropping to the table. "And it doesn't work!"

"Of course not! I just said that to keep you from trying to date anyone until you were old enough to know how to use a condom!" Nicholas replied, raising his hands in exasperation. "What sort of idiot thinks that all a girl wants is confidence? No, you also need to know the basics of romance!" As the argument began to grow more and more heated, Ren stacked Nora's plate on top of his and stood up.

"I think it's best if we take out leave," he said to Nora, turning around and walking off. "They clearly have some catching up to do." Nora finished off her glass of orange juice and wiped her mouth with her sleeve.

"You got that right. You coming along, Pyrrha?" she asked, looking at the other red head. Pyrrha looked at Nora, then at the two arguing men next to her.

"See, the serenading was good idea! You just needed to adjust your angle on it."

"She slammed the door in my face!"

"As I said, adjust the angle. Maybe start below a window?"

"Dad, when was the last time you hit on a woman other than Mom?"

"Let your old man show you he can get the number of anyone on campus," the elder Arc said, brushing aside the question as he stood up and scanned the cafeteria before his eyes alighted upon a tall blonde in heels and glasses. "Watch a master at work." With that, he stood up from the table and promptly began to stride towards Professor Goodwitch, a broad smile on his face.

"I'll catch up," Pyrrha said.


	13. Ice, Light, and Flowers

"Where are we going?" Weiss whispered, glancing from side to side furtively. Technically speaking, there was nothing wrong or forbidden about walking around the weapon lockers on a weekend. Technically speaking, the Schnee Dust Company heiress could choose to depart a social gathering late at night with a faunus boy who had an intense aversion to buttoning up his shirts with no consequence. Technically speaking, Jacques Schnee could be visited by the three Geists of Christmas Past, Present, and Future, grow his heart three sizes in one night, and decide to liquidate part of his personal wealth to ensure that no one went hungry that cold winter night.

All three incidents were technically possible, but anyone witnessing them would have many, many questions.

"You know the sneakier you try to be, the less sneaky you are," Sun said, leaning over and gently nudging the back of her hand. "Also, careful there. You'll make a guy feel like he's not wanted."

"You know that's not true," Weiss snapped, fingers lacing through his and fighting down a flush. After a second she looked over her shoulder again. "I just want to make sure that Yang doesn't see us. She still thinks I'm pining after Neptune, and so long as she has something to 'console me' over" — Weiss rolled her eyes and added air quotes with one hand — "she's not going to go searching for something else to needle me with."

Sun laughed, loud and deep. "Blondes, am I right?"

"Keep your voice down!" Weiss hissed, steps clicking angrily as she pulled Sun further into the building. "Just because there shouldn't be anyone here doesn't mean that-"

A low, breathy moan cut through the air, shortly followed by soft panting.

Weiss and Sun froze.

"Please, keep going, just a little higher and-" the voice cut off into a whine, masculine and vulnerable and needy and not for voyeuristic ears. Weiss's flush went full-face, and when she turned to look at Sun his complexion had gotten rosier as well. He met her gaze for a moment, glanced towards another row of lockers, then gently tilted his head away from them.

Weiss nodded, turning around to walk away, then bit her lip. There was something familiar about the panting she heard, a thought that inspired no small interest in her. Who did she know with an active sex life and without a date to the dance? No one sprang to mind, but the sound of lusty groans couldn't be ignored.

Her feet slowly trod back, even as Sun shook his head vigorously and crossed his lone free arm across his chest while mouthing _no_ repeatedly. Weiss glared back and dragged more firmly on his arm. Either someone she knew was getting nookie when she didn't know or she knew someone who was getting nookie and didn't know them, and both options were unacceptable. Sun was coming along for the ride, if for no other reason than because she wasn't witnessing whatever this was alone.

Slowly, they moved closer to the row of lockers, granting the passion new dimension. The rustle of cloth on cloth, the slightly-moist impact of lips on flesh, of echoing metal where bodies adjusted position against the lockers. Heat suffused Weiss as images appeared in her head, fantasies of what could be happening just out of sight hiding just behind her eyes. Each step pit curiosity against embarrassment, both growing stronger and more powerful the closer she got to the source.

"Weiss," Sun hissed, so quietly she almost didn't hear it over a particularly loud gasp.

"Quiet," she hissed back, pressing her back against the locker. Around the corner was the answer to a dozen half-formed questions, awkward as they could be. So long as she took a quick glance and left quickly, no harm would be done. She could keep a secret.

Weiss took a deep breath, then peeked around the corner.

Intellectually, Weiss knew that it was hard to be a hunter-in-training and be unattractive. A strict workout routine plus aura meant lots of muscle and clear skin, both genetically pleasing traits. Add in years of training in the psychology of positive emotions and the sort of dedication to a mission normally seen in religious zealots and the result tended to be figures that typically only appeared in romance novels. Even on an all-female team, even though Weiss was comfortably into men, it was hard not to notice just how _fit_ some people were.

It was one thing to know that hunters-in-training were a snack, and quite another to see it in action.

The first thing that struck Weiss was just how much bare skin was showing. The figure pinned against the locker had his jacket and shirt unbuttoned and pulled down, restraining his arms behind his back, and a belt lay on the ground while suit pants sagged enough to reveal the very top of skin-tight shorts decorated with dark pink hearts. Pale skin showed off delicate pink tooth marks lining one side of his neck, while a slim strip of white cloth covered the boy's eyes.

His companion was also shirtless. And pantsless. Weiss flushed as she forced her eyes away from perfectly-sculpted legs, over two barely-concealed arousals, and up to a mane of black hair that lead to a head buried in the other side of the blond boy's shoulder. One hand hung down, caressing and tracing lines, while the other was just out of sight, hidden by the profile of the two bodies.

Weiss got lost for a minute. Coincidentally, that was the exact length of time Sun needed to recover.

"Jaune!?" he shouted. A voice crack, sharp and unusual broke Weiss out of her daze, and prompted the two boys to pull apart and spin to look at their voyeurs. Which brought with it more questions.

"Ren!?" Weiss hissed, every muscle seizing as one of the two bastions of sanity in her life blinked dumbly at her. There was no mistaking those pink eyes, nor the blue ones revealed when the slip of cloth fell away from Jaune's face.

"Weiss!?" Jaune and Ren both asked as one. Then their gaze went over her head. "Sun!?"

"We are so sorry," Sun whispered, both hands falling to Weiss's shoulders and gently tugging back. Firmly.

Weiss didn't move. Jaune was furiously trying to shrug his coat back up, but an elaborate knot around his wrists was keeping him from making headway. Ren, meanwhile, had placed both hands ineffectually over his groin and was making an admirable effort to keep a straight face. "How? When? Why?"

"In reverse order: because I enjoy it, for the past month or two, and by asking nicely if he wanted to have sex. Please leave," Ren said carefully.

"Please!" Jaune added, stumbling around to cower behind Ren. The half head of height difference plus mass made the action almost comical, if not for the absolute death of dignity the pairing entailed.

"Weiss!" Sun hissed.

"But why ask in the first place?" she pressed, shaking off the other boys arm and stalking forward, heat rising to her face. "He's pushy, immature, arrogant, doesn't know how to take a hint, dangerously irritating, completely lacking in any type of fashion sense, and possesses all the charisma of a wet sponge! He's also been chasing me for the past few months, so how on Remnant—"

"Perhaps he's pushy because he wants to deflect questions," Ren interrupted, one hand moving behind his back as his brows furrowed. "Perhaps he knew that loud, obvious motions would make most people consider him a buffon and little more. Perhaps he thought it might be easier to be seen as a normal failure than an irregular success. The people around him have certainly haven't given him any reason to doubt the efficacy of such a strategy."

Weiss stopped. Then she leaned over to look at the blond boy, who was blushing furiously.

"It was a plan to get Pyrrha to stop ogling me," he muttered. When Weiss's jaw dropped he whined again. "I didn't want to hurt her feelings but I also didn't want to come out to the crazy violence lady who nearly killed me in initiation and keeps trying to convince me to join her grappling practice!"

"Wait, is that why you lose all the time in combat class, or do you just suck?" Sun asked, stepping up beside Weiss and scratching his head.

Jaune shrugged. "Little of column A, little of B. We've got, like, one test that matters. I do suck, but I figure that goosing the pedal might get me a few more points on the final when Cardin tries something stupid that he can't actually get away with."

"You've been lying to us this entire time," Weiss said slowly, reviewing the scenes in her memory. On the one hand, the idea was preposterous. No one could act that well, and to deliberately be as pathetic as possible went in the face of everything Weiss knew about good marketing. Perhaps no publicity was bad publicity, but there needed to be something behind the rumors, behind the failure, otherwise scratching away even part of the illusion would reveal the whole.

Unless it was only _part_ an act.

Jaune's test scores had been going up. Not fast, but steadily, and some quick math told her he'd pass with comfortably more than the minimum if he kept it up. He was receiving training from _the_ Pyrrha Nikos, and if any student at school could whip a near-civilian into shape it would be the most dangerous one on campus. If he didn't change his character, only his actions, and those actions were in line with what people wanted to see, and in such a way that they pandered to the observer's ego, and if the illusion seemed too stupid for any self-respecting human to adopt intentionally...

Well, then you'd be able to fool a Schnee.

"I wouldn't call it a lie," Jaune clarified, peeking out from behind Ren's shoulder. "I like you guys. Even you, Weiss. I don't lie about important stuff anymore. I just don't want to deal with a whole lot of attention right now."

A pause stretched out.

"Also, why are you here? With Sun?"

The glyph was instinctive, borne of shame and fear. Jaune went flying to the side, yelping as more than six feet of huntsman in training compacted into five feet and seven inches of locker. The five projectiles afterwards must have been a conscious decision, must have been calculated to put Jaune right back in his room, but for the life of her Weiss could never remember precisely why she decided to hurl them.

What she did remember is the look of dismay on Ren's face, the shocked expression of Sun, and the feel of night air on her face as she grabbed her partner and started running away as fast as possible. She remembered the flush of heat that suffused her as she realized that she'd been had by _Jaune Arc_ , that he'd been having the entire school, that he'd been had by Ren for _months_...

And that she'd just yeeted him to his dorm.

Which was right by hers.

"Where're we going?" Weiss recognized the shouting. It was from Sun, who'd slowed to a stop beside her.

"Your room," she replied distantly. "Mine has too many blond idiots."


End file.
